


Keep Breathing

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Caring Rick, Comfort/Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, First Kiss, Hurt Daryl, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rickyl, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:12:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my vision of what should have happened in 5.10 "Them" when Daryl was grieving Beth alone in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd one-shot coming at you!
> 
> A little something for the folks who aren't into the chaptered D/s story I'm posting.

Daryl sat against the tree, failure crushing him. Beth's death was on his shoulders. He had one person. One person to protect. How could he have been so careless? How could he have let her get taken away? He was worthless.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he let them fall for a few moments as he listened to the wind in the trees and gazed vacantly at the treetops above him. 

After a moment, he wiped at his eyes and dug for a cigarette. A deep breath of smoke didn't sooth him like it should. He looked down at his hand and knew it would take more than filling his lungs to ease this pain. This emptiness in him. The guilt. The sadness. It was so all-consuming. 

He looked to his hand, turned the cigarette and pressed it into himself. The pain pulled his mind away from the tumble of emotions. It was deserved. Should be more. Should be...

"Why?" Rick's voice asked from behind him. Daryl's head shot up quickly. He had been so focused on this grief, that he hadn't even heard the man coming. And this was not a quiet man.

Daryl dropped his vacant gaze and tossed the snuffed cigarette. He shrugged his shoulders. 

Rick looked down at him, cocking his head. "Daryl, you haven't really been with me for days. What can I do? What do you need?" He sat Indian-style in front of the archer and grabbed Daryl's hand to examine the burn. 

Daryl wanted to snatch his hand back. Get up and storm away. Yell at Rick to mind his own fucking business. But he couldn't. The depression over loosing Beth, after coming so fucking close to getting her back, was overwhelming and diminished his ability to react.

He sat back and watched Rick as he poured some of his water bottle over the raw burn to clean it out.

"Daryl?" Rick asked, eyes locked on the archer. 

Daryl just blinked.

"Don't check out on me man," the leader whispered.

"Ain't gonna leave ya," Daryl muttered, voice raspier than usual from days without words.

Rick stood and reached a hand down for Daryl. A lifeline. An anchor. And Daryl took it and stood to his feet. He leaned back against the tree, not yet ready to join the others. 

"Daryl," Rick said again, his voice close. His body closer. It wasn't a question. It wasn't the start of a pep talk. It was just a statement. Daryl. The answer to an inner dialogue perhaps. 

Daryl kept his eyes on treetops as fat tears spilled down his dirty cheeks leaving clear trails of despair in their wake.

Rick wrapped him in strong arms, hugging him tight and the skittish hunter allowed it. Buried his head in Rick's shoulder and let his tears fall free. "I killed her. It was cause a' me. 'S my fault she's dead."

Rick shushed him. Patted his back with one hand while pulling him close with the other. "Ain't on you, brother," he whispered. 

Daryl's stilted breaths and heaving sobs subsided to just a silent sadness. Tear stains dried down his cheeks. Rick's hand had slipped into Daryl's shaggy hair. Petting. Stroking. Soothing him. Consoling and comforting.

Daryl felt comforted for the first time in another person's touch. He felt dizzy. He wasn't just tolerating a touch like he's learned to do with Rick and Carol. Glenn and Maggie. He allowed their contact because he knew they needed it. But this moment... He didn't lean into Rick for Rick's sake. He leaned in because he wanted... needed Rick. Needed Rick physically, emotionally,  
Needed anything he'd be willing to give.

Daryl let his arms wrap around Rick's waist. Loose. Gentle. Hesitant but deliberate. Rick's hand moved from stroking hair to cupping Daryl's cheek. Rick pulled back to look into Daryl's eyes. Daryl wanted to shut them and hide, but he couldn't because the brilliant blue of Rick's irises was magnetic. 

The archer watched as Rick's irises grew narrower around his swelling pupils. The leader moved his hand again, slowly, so that a thumb was able to gently brush over Daryl's eyebrow, forcing his lids to flutter shut. And Daryl felt dry, soft, nervous lips press lightly to his own. His normal instincts would be to flee. To escape touch and feeling and emotion. Protect himself. But that isn't what happened . What happened was Daryl's every muscle relaxing into Rick. His mind going blank save for the feel of Rick's hands and lips. His chest against Daryl's chest. 

He wanted it. Wanted the comfort. The affection. The feeling of skin against his own skin. He relaxed into Rick, giving himself to his leader. His mind screaming for Rick to take what he wanted. To touch him and love him. His lips parted to breathe and Rick took it as a green light to explore. His still, cautious lips became curious and eager, twisting and churning and melting into Daryl's lips. Moving against them like leaves in wind. 

Daryl's delicate grasp on Rick's hips became bolder and stronger. Grasping on as if Rick was the only thing between life and death. Arms wrapped. Fingers curled. Lips and tongues danced. Moans joined the chirps of birds and the buzzing of gnats and mosquitos. 

Rick's hands gripped tighter into Daryl's hair. The archer's pelvis strained forward seeking friction against his leader. 

In the moments of air between frantic kisses, Daryl heard Rick again, gasping his name, "Daryl." It was filled with want and need and desire and Daryl didn't ever want to stop feeling the rhythm of Rick's full pink lips against him. 

Tears and guilt gave way to urgency. The urgent need to be Rick's. To let Rick have him. Save him. Take away the guilt. The pain. The sorrow. The despair.

He wanted to die when he first slipped into the woods. He'd let Beth down. But he couldn't die when he still had others who needed him. Not just needed... Wanted. 

And not once did Daryl wonder how things would change once their lips left each other. With a soft sigh, and arms squeezing tight, Rick let his mouth graze Daryl's cheek then earlobe. "I need you, Daryl."

"I know," Daryl whispered back. 

"Come back to the road. We have to keep going," Rick said softly, pressing pink lips to Daryl's dirt layered neck, grabbing his cigarette-scarred hand and pressing kiss-swollen lips to the burn.

Rick threaded fingers into Daryl's hand and kept his eyes, leading him by the hand back to the group on the road and back to breathing and walking and moving and staying alive. So Daryl would live. And as he followed behind Rick he knew his breaths were no longer for himself. He would live for Rick, for Beth cause she'd want that for him, for Carol and Carl. Judith. Glenn and Maggie. It will be ok to keep breathing, he thought. He was needed here. He wasn't done yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Too much angst? Not enough kissing? Sick of all my "first kiss" Rickyl fics? Talk to me! :-)
> 
> If anyone has any suggestions for one-shots, please let me know! I'm between long fics now and have some time!
> 
> P.s.- I'm on tumblr now- TWDObsessive


End file.
